Merry Christmas!
by Diagon Alley II
Summary: A collection of one-shots written by the members of Diagon Alley II as part of our Secret Santa Gift Exchange 2016. Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone!
1. Chapter 1

**Merry Christmas!**

 _ **A/N: Diagon Alley here, back this year with another amazing collection of Christmas stories to share with you. The members of Diagon Alley II have written some Christmas fics to share with you, forming part of the DAII Secret Santa Gift Exchange 2016. We hope you enjoy these; author's names will be revealed on January 1st when the guessing competition finishes (and the final fic/chapter is added). Merry Christmas!**_

* * *

 **A/N: Here's a Barty x Regulus for The Crownless Queen, from your Secret Santa. It's a tale of a far-from-perfect Christmas, but I'm not sure how much that matters when they have each other :) I really hope you enjoy! -Laura (SableSupernova)**

 **Note: the song lyrics that bookend this piece are from _Merry Christmas (I Don't Wanna Fight Tonight)_ by The Ramones.**

* * *

 _Where is Santa at his sleigh?_

 _Tell me why is it always this way?_

 _Where is Rudolph? Where is Blitzen, baby?_

 _Merry Christmas, merry merry merry Christmas._

 _December 25, 1978_

Regulus kept his eyes shut as he came to, as if he could will himself back to sleep. The room was still dark beyond his eyelids, but the shortest day of the year wasn't far behind, so the lack of sunlight didn't tell him much. His body felt heavy like it had stayed still for too long and needed moving. His mind buzzed to attention. With a groan, he opened his eyes.

It was then that he saw he was alone. The covers on Barty's side had been pushed back without much care hours before and still showed the signs of where his body had been. The memories of being half asleep watching him leave came back to Regulus. His heart sunk. He remembered it was Christmas Day today.

He wanted to go back to sleep now more than ever, to sleep through the whole day if he had to, just to pass the time without remembering it until Barty came home. If Barty came home. _That would be a Christmas present, wouldn't it?_ he thought bitterly. _A funeral to plan_. He wouldn't even be able to grieve properly, not with his family or friends. Barty would have died for the cause, so everyone would have to be proud of him. No one even really knew that Regulus and Barty were much more than friends.

No, he wouldn't think about that. He wouldn't let his mind run away with itself. Just because he didn't know, that didn't mean the worst had happened. He pulled himself out of bed and reached for his jeans, half-dressing before he headed for the kitchen. He needed a nice cup of tea to settle his thoughts.

Once the kettle was full and the mug was sat waiting with its teabag, Regulus had to wait for the water to boil. He leant over the unit, arms fully extended, shoulders high and palms digging into the edge of the unit top.

The trouble was he didn't know where Barry was. He didn't know anything of the plan. They'd heard a rumour a week ago about a Christmas Day mission, but no detail. The two of them had thought it unlikely, at the time. They heard rumours of missions and attacks and that sort of thing all the time, and most of the time they were wrong. Something about this one had felt like that, too.

They'd talked about it that evening. Half laughing at it, half terrified of the prospect. They talked about it, Regulus thought, just so they could dismiss it. An attack on Christmas Day was an attack on families wasn't it? It wasn't just about the individuals who stood in opposition to them. It brought the old, the sick, the frail, the young all into the fray. They didn't deserve to be in the fray, did they? And then, Regulus remembered Barty saying, once you've attacked their parents, and grandparents, and children, you're just asking them to come after yours, aren't you? Even though Regulus didn't really mind the thought of anyone going after his parents, he still didn't think it was a good idea. There were new born children and new families in both sides that were surely best left out of things.

But the Dark Lord thought differently, and what the Dark Lord thought was what happened.

The kettle boiled and Ref poured it out into his cup, added some milk, and headed for the living room. Settling into the sofa, he saw the Christmas tree, magical lights twinkling like stars, and sighed. The presents were all underneath it. Yesterday, they'd seemed enchanting, enticing. Today, they just looked like things, like stuff. He saw the present he'd wrapped for Barty, in white paper with Father Christmases strewn all over it in garish reds. It looked pathetic next to Barty's present for him, a box wrapped in plain green with a white ribbon bow. Regulus hadn't even thought about putting a bow on his.

He put his cup of tea down on the coffee table and went over to the cupboard they kept in the living room, them one with a few glasses and bottles of alcohol for when they were entertaining. Regulus pulled out a tumblr and a bottle of brandy. He didn't like brandy all that much, but as they'd bought it for Christmas, it was right at the the front of the cupboard.

He poured himself a large measure and sat back down, leaving the lid off the bottle beside him.

He hoped a drink would calm his nerves a little, make his thoughts a little less clear, his imagination a little less vivid. He felt the same as he had all morning after emptying the first glass so he poured another.

It wasn't long before he poured another.

Time passed that way for what must have been hours. Regulus forgot to eat anything. He just sat there in a relentless rhythm of pouring and drinking. Occasionally, he found a cigarette and lit the end with his wand, pulling the smoke deep into his lungs until the heat almost hurt. He didn't even notice the noises from the door.

Footsteps, the jangling of keys, one being pushed into the lock. The handle was being turned before Regulus' brain caught up with his ears and he realised he could gear something. He tried to turn to face the door, to see who it was, but he noticed there were three doors. He wasn't sure which one was the real one. None of them would stay still either. They kept moving off to the right before jumping back to the right again and then moving back.

A blur walked into the room. It was vaguely man-shaped. Regulus willed his eyes to focus, but it took them a while before he recognised the person as Barty.

Barty. Barty was home. Regulus grinned. Barty was supposed to be home and that was a good thing and that made Regulus happy. Yes.

"Have you been drinking?"

The words were loud and cold and Regulus didn't like them. His smile faded.

"Bit," he said, looking away.

"A bit? Are you kidding me? It's Christmas Day, Reg! I've been inches away from death too many times to count today already and you've been sat there working your way through a bottle of whiskey? Merlin's beard, it's just gone one o'clock!"

There was silence for a moment in which Barty breathed loudly, waiting.

"S'not… it… not whiskey. Brandy." Regulus picked up the bottle, holding it to his face and peering the glass. "Gone."

"Bloody brilliant."

Barty threw his arms up in defeat and turned as if to walk into the house, away from Regulus.

"No!" Regulus shouted before jumping back in his seat as if scared by the volume of his own voice.

Barty sighed. "Why not?"

"It's Christmas. Don't wanna fight." Regulus said, looking at Barty as best he could with triple vision, sincerity lurking in the depths of his unfocused eyes.

The fight dissipated from Barty's muscles.

"I was scared, Barty. Thought… thought you were dead. Saw you… in my head. I just… I wanted to make it goway," Regulus admitted. Barty stood still and staring as Regulus pulled himself to unsteady feet and staggered towards him. As Regulus wrapped his arms around Barty, Barty didn't resist. He found his own arms lifting without his consent and wrapping around Regulus in return. "I love you," Regulus finished.

Barty closed his eyes as he loosed a shaky breath. "I love you too."

 _I love you and you love me  
And that's the way it's got to be  
I loved you from the start  
'Cause Christmas ain't the time for breaking each other's heart_


	2. Chapter 2

**Remember me the Way I Am**

 _ **A/N: For Laura (Sable Supernova) from MarvelGeek42**_

* * *

Dennis Finney was put into another class than his friends—Dudley, Piers, Gordon, and Malcolm—at Smeltings.

That didn't change, no matter how much he complained, no matter how much he tried to get his parents to do the same. Even when Dudley and his parents complained, he was not moved into another class with them.

Dennis didn't know the reason—and, quite frankly, he did not care the slightest—but it meant that he was all alone in his new class, without a single friend.

In retrospect, that was the best thing that could possibly have happened to him.

* * *

His first day in Smeltings was terrible.

Dennis knew he wasn't a slim guy, but it had never been a problem before. And it hadn't been for Dudley either and he didn't even know how many pound his friend had on him.

That, however, changed as soon as he entered the classroom.

He was slightly late because he had assumed that the room of him and his friends would be close together, as they were in room 012 and he in room 013, but for some reason, these two rooms were on almost opposite sites of the school.

When he entered the room, the first thing he heard was: "Who's that fatso?"

Now, Dennis wasn't the kind of kid that would simply let that sit on himself. He had seen who had insulted him.

A thin but tall boy—almost a head taller than Dennis was himself—with dark blond hair and freckles all over his face.

Before he could do anything, though, a tiny girl whose skin was several shades darker than the one of Dennis and the random kid. It was more than a bit obvious that she wasn't strong, in fact, she looked more like a delicate flower than a fighter.

And yet she deliberately placed herself between Dennis and the random kid.

No one had ever joined his side before. Not his parents, not even his friends. And now this little girl he didn't know at all did?

"Stop being rude, Sean," she said, her calm and steady voice making her appear significantly larger than she was.

"I was just wondering," the other boy muttered.

The girl was not impressed by that at all, though. She looked the other boy—Sean—straight into his eyes as she responded.

"Then do all of us a favour and wonder quietly. Think about the impact your words might have had."

Without further ado she turned around and held out her hand in front of him.

"Hi. My name's Elizabeth, but call me Lizzie."

Dennis mustered the girl's hand for a couple of seconds before he took it.

"Dennis," he grunted in reply.

Their conversation was interrupted when their teacher arrived.

He decided to sit down next to Lizzie.

* * *

They sat together in every lesson, even if he wasn't quite sure why.

Consequently, they grew increasingly closer over the next weeks, even if Dennis still spent all of his free time with his gang.

He talked with Lizzie during class and when they moved from room to room.

The conversations were surprisingly pleasant if he was honest. She turned out to be a fan of most of the shows he liked and vice versa.

Lizzie was also great at explaining things to Dennis whenever he didn't understand something. That did happen quite frequently and yet she never sounded annoyed or condescending.

He grew to like her just as much as his other friends in no time.

Once a few months had passed, though, he was starting to see faults with his old gang. So many things they had done—especially to Dudley's cousin, Harry—was completely and utterly deplorable. Nothing more than bullying and nothing less, too. Dennis wanted to apologize, but he had no way to contact the other boy, so he had no choice but to sit on his guilt.

It was a slow progress, but he was drifting apart from the gang. He wasn't even sure if they noticed it.

Lizzie was just as good company as they were, if not better.

* * *

"Come on, Dennis!" Lizzie all but yelled as she dragged him along to the list for the school's Spelling Bee. "Sign up! It's going to be fun!"

Dennis raised an eyebrow. "Fun? You do know you are talking about a Spelling Bee, right? Because that sounds like the opposite of fun to me."

His friend—because that was what Lizzie was at this point, wasn't she?—turned around and looked him right into the eye. "You'd do great, though."

He snorted. Yeah, right. His grades míght have improved ever so slightly, but he was not smart. And what would Dudley and his gang say?

"Don't underestimate yourself, Den! You're smarter than you think. In fact, I bet you five pounds, some gum and...err... a bit of chocolate," she said, smirking as she looked through her pockets and backpack, "that _you_ would be in the best twenty at the very least."

He blinked a couple of times. He had not expected that. Lizzie never—absolutely never, under no circumstances, with zero exceptions—made a bet when she was not one hundred percent certain she would wind.

And really, what did he have to lose?

* * *

"You're doing _what_?" Piers's eyebrows disappeared in the hair that hung over his face as he asked..

Dennis sighed. This was the third time he would have to repeat himself. "I'm participating in the Spelling Bee." He made extra sure to speak clearly and slowly this time, so that they wouldn't ask him to repeat himself yet another time.

"I got that. But why?"

Dennis really could not put his finger as to why, but somehow he felt more than a bit insulted by Gordon's question.

"Lizzie and I have a bet," he explained somewhat reluctantly. "I only have to get into the top twenty to win."  
"And you couldn't just, y'know, take it from her anyway?" Dudley said, his confusion was very prominent in both his face and voice.

"Err, no? She's my friend!"

Malcolm shook his head. "Mate, I don't know what happened to you in the past months. I hardly recognize you! That girl must've gotten into your head."

That statement made him feel even more insulted than he had been before. He needed to defend his friend!

 _They are your friends_ , a small voice at the back of his mind piped up.

 _No they are not_ , another part of him argued. _Not if they react like that._

It was quite sudden, but Dennis realized that the latter voice was right.

He stood up and left. not once bothering to look back, no matter how hard they protested.

* * *

After that incident, he stayed away from his former friends. It wasn't easy—he was tempted to go back to them more than once, but whenever he felt the urge to do so, he focused on studying instead.

Lizzie was still and would always be great help with that. She sat next to him, encouraged him, and made him forget the loneliness he felt whenever he wasn't with her.

The three weeks between the sign up and the actual event passed in no time at all and yet they felt like years.

So much had changed, but Dennis wasn't sure whether it was good or bad.

The hours before the Spelling Bee were the most anxious and nervous ones he had in his almost twelve years of life.

But once he got on the stage, he felt strangely at home there.

And he may have lost that bet, it didn't really matter. In fact, Lizzie was more annoyed by it than he was.

"I knew I should have gone with top ten and bet a collection card, too," she muttered as he handed over her prize. Five pounds, some gum, and a bit of chocolate.

"Now, don't get too greedy," he laughed.

"I know I shouldn't," she replied with a smirk. "You wouldn't have anything to do in that case,"

"You didn't just say that:"

"What if I did?"

Dennis smiled. "You're so going to regret that."

"You've gotta catch me first!" Lizzie laughed as she started running.

The first year at Smeltings had ended up being completely different from what he had expected.

He could not find any fault with the end result, he mused as he accepted the part of gum Lizzie offered him back as a peace offering.

"You did great, though."


	3. Chapter 3

**Let Me Entertain You**

 _ **A/N: For ChatterChick from The Crownless Queen.**_

* * *

.i.

It had taken James entirely too much work to bribe the House-Elves so they'd let him use the kitchens to cook something for Lily – somehow it was easier to convince them when they were pranking the Slytherins – but now he finally had a place to practice the spells he had had his mother teach him last Christmas holidays.

She had let him practice the wand movements and incantations, but anything more would have broken the Decree for Underage Wizardry, so James had had to wait until he got back to Hogwarts to actually cook anything.

Valentine's Day was just around the corner, though, and this year James had decided that he would give Lily a gift that would finally make her see that he was such a better choice for a friend – if not something more – than Snivellus. He was going to make her chocolates, the dark kind he knew, thanks to Sirius bribing Marlene to reveal her best friend's secret, she loved the most.

Besides, chocolates were surely easier to make than actual cakes would be, and James was good at magic. The hour the House-Elves had left him would be more than enough.

After all, he only had to mix the chocolate, mix it with that nutty stuff Lily liked, and shape it into little hearts. There were spells for that. He would be done with plenty of time left.

Forty-five minutes later had James contemplating the ruins that had once been something resembling a chocolate heart.

Something went wrong, he realized, hesitantly poking the chocolate mess with the tip of his index finger. It tasted mostly okay, he thought as he licked it clean, so why hadn't it taken the shape it should have?

"You know, I'm pretty sure chocolate isn't supposed to look that lumpy," a voice came from behind his shoulder.

James screamed, jumping in the air and twirling around, pointing his wand at the intruder.

"Nice girly scream, Prongs," Sirius mocked, even as Remus reached past James to reach the chocolate.

With a put-upon sigh, James batted away his friend's hand.

"What are you guys doing here?"

"Well, we knew you were up to something secret and we thought it'd be interesting to check it out," Sirius replied, still smirking.

"We thought that, uh, maybe you had a plan for our next prank on the Slytherins?" Peter continued shyly.

James rolled his eyes. "I was busy, and no, this didn't have anything to do with the Slytherins."

"We can see that," Remus replied, his lips twitching up. "Looks like you're having a bit of a problem with your 'business' too."

James scowled. "Not that my 'business' is any of your business, but I'm fine. This is just a minor setback."

"Of course it is," Remus replied drily, arching an eyebrow dubiously. Beside him, Sirius and Peter started coughing, no doubt trying to hide their laughter. Not even James' darkest glare made them stop – if anything it only made it worse.

"But you know, Prongs… If you need any help with this, you can always ask – Merlin knows that Sirius would be hopeless in a kitchen-"

"Hey!" Sirius protested, before pausing, considering it. "Actually, Moony's right on that one."

"Thank you, Padfoot," Remus said graciously, before turning back to James. "Peter wouldn't be much better, and now we know that you're apparently not any better either – I have no idea how you'll survive after graduation with no one to feed you – but luckily for you, I happen to be somewhat better at this than you."

"How?" James asked, leaning forward before he could stop himself.

"That's not important," Remus replied quickly, blushing lightly. "What matters is that I can probably fix your mess."

"Probably?"

"Well, I can't exactly make it worse now, can I?"

"He's got you there, Prongs," Sirius interjected, shrugging away James' glare.

"Fine, go ahead," James muttered through his teeth as he stepped aside.

It took Remus thirty seconds and two waves of his hand for him to clear up James' mess and transform it into the chocolate heart James had meant to do. Another wave and it was all wrapped up and sported a beautifully tied golden bow.

"Now that's really not fair," James pouted.

Remus simply shrugged and handed the gift to James. "Think of it this way: now, when she doesn't like it and says no to your - what is it, hundredth attempt at asking her out? - you'll know for sure it wasn't you."

"This time," Sirius muttered to himself, before yelping as Peter stomped on his foot.

James eyed the gift for a moment. It was supposed to come from him, but he supposed that the time he had spent trying to get it right and thinking of it counted, didn't it? So it should be okay.

"Thanks guys," he said with a smile. "I'm sure Lily will love them."

"In your dreams maybe," Sirius muttered again, yelping even louder as this time Remus elbowed him in the side.

(the good news: Lily kept the chocolate)

(the bad news: she said no, once again, and Sirius laughed at him for a week)

* * *

.ii.

"Are you sure you can't just use your wand for this? Cause I'm pretty sure you'd have a better result. Or at least something not as bad," Sirius said, eyeing the disaster that the Potter's kitchen was quickly becoming with dubiousness from the stool he was sat on.

"You know I can't!" James protested, frowning. "Lily said she had learned to cook Muggle, so to impress her I need to know it too!"

Having already heard that argument a dozen times, and still not finding it any more convincing than it had been the times before, Sirius rolled his eyes and edged his seat away a little more.

"Right… But you know Prongs, I'm also pretty sure that Lily would be more impressed by something edible than by the lump of charcoal you're currently poking," Sirius replied, gesturing at what he thought should have been some kind of cake but did indeed look rather more like charcoal.

"I just need to practice a bit more," James stated in a confident tone. As he said this however, the knife he had been trying to get into his cake – the book had said that this was something he needed to do to check if it was ready (personally James thought it had to be, as any more cooking would probably only turn it into ashes) – finally penetrated it.

The cake split in two, a big crack spreading from one side to the other, revealing that the insides of the cake didn't look any better than the outsides.

James' shoulders slumped. "I don't get it. I did everything right, like the book said. Why didn't it work?"

"No idea, mate," Sirius shrugged, fighting off a smile. Now that the danger had officially passed – there had been actual fire, and Sirius didn't know much about Muggle cooking but even he was pretty sure no actual fire should be involved in it – it was hard not to see the humor in the situation, as usual when James tried to do something for 'the love of his life', Lily Evans.

"Don't laugh!" James scowled, turning around in a twirl, pointing his knife at Sirius' face in a gesture that would have looked menacing had his face not been covered in flour and bits of eggs still. "I will get this right, you know I will. I just need more practice."

"Sure Prongs. Whatever you say," Sirius said with a smirk, holding his hands up in a calming gesture.

James scowled again. Something dripped on his shoulder – one of his earlier attempts at making crepes, Sirius believed – and James sighed, relenting. "Alright, I need a lot more practice."

"One the bright side," Sirius added with mirth, "we now know that if we need someone poisoned we can always just ask you."

"Just for that, you're going to be tasting my next creation," James replied even as he turned back to face the kitchen itself.

Sirius froze and nearly fell off the stool. "Come one now, Prongs – surely there's no need to do something so rash as that… Prongs? Buddy?"

Instead of answering, James just started humming as he used his wand to clear the workspace before he started over – apparently cleaning wasn't part of cooking and was thus alright to use magic for.

Sirius couldn't see his face, but he didn't have to to know that his friend was smirking.

Just the thought was enough to make him shiver, but James wouldn't actually go through with it, would he?

Would he?

* * *

.iii.

"Do you think Lily will like it?" James asked, eyeing the strawberry soufflé he had just put under a stasis charm.

Beside him, Sirius looked gobsmacked.

"You know, when you told me that you wanted my thoughts on your latest kitchen adventure, I honestly wondered what kind of disaster area I would be walking into this time. But honestly, I'm impressed. It looks like you've actually managed something edible this time."

"Ha, ha, ha, very funny Padfoot. You know I'm not that bad."

"My stomach begs differently – it still remembers the horror you tried to feed it."

"And we both know you refused to swallow any of it, so give it a rest. Now, do you think she'll like it?"

Sirius eyed the soufflé with suspicion, and then eyed James the same way. "And you're sure that you made it? No one else? You?"

As Sirius' tone grew more and more incredulous, James rolled his eyes and interrupted him. "Yes, me. I've been practising, it should be fine – I tasted everything and it seemed okay, nothing exploded or burst into flames this time, which I've been told was a good sign, but I want everything to be perfect – this dessert has to be irreproachable."

"So… You want me to taste it?" Sirius asked, confused.

"No!" James yelled. "It's for Lily. And I. For Lily and I, for our dinner. Which we will have tonight. Together. Alone."

It took Sirius a moment to get it, but the way James' hands kept inching toward his pocket gave him a pretty big clue.

"Oh. Oh. You mean you want to do it tonight?"

James blushed. "Yes. Do you think she'll like it?"

"I'm sure she will, Prongs, I'm sure she will. But, err, no offence, but you do have a back-up plan in case your food is inedible, right?"

James bristled. "This will be fine. There's no need for, for a back-up," he sputtered.

"Whatever you say, Prongs. Just remember – if you need anything, anything at all, I'm just a Firecall away."

"I won't. But thanks," James conceded.

"Well, I guess that's me off then. Have fun tonight, hope everything goes to plan! See you!"

"See you," James replied weakly as Sirius whirled out of the room.

Once Sirius was truly gone, James took a deep breath and returned to the kitchen. He had the dessert – the most important part, in his mind – but the rest of the dinner had yet to be made, and it had to be perfect.

This would work.

* * *

.vi.

"You know, I really hope Harry doesn't inherit your 'talents' in the kitchen. Can you imagine?" Lily laughed, a quiet sound like bells.

James pouted. "That's not a very nice thing to say to your husband now, is it? Besides, I seem to remember you loving me anyway."

Lily laughed again, and lazily kissed the pout away. "Yes, but I certainly didn't marry you for your cooking skills. It would be nice if I had someone who could help me that wouldn't somehow ruin the whole thing, though."

"I could help – I'm not that bad anymore, you know," James protested weakly – he was still that bad.

Lily threw him a disbelieving look. "You? James, there's only one thing – Merlin knows even how – that you can manage to cook, that's a strawberry soufflé. And I'm-"

"You're allergic to strawberries, yes, I know. How many times do I have to apologize for that?"

Lily slapped his arm playfully, rolling her eyes. "I'm not asking you to apologize – I just want you to see that you should never – never – enter my kitchen again."

"Technically it's our kitchen you know, seeing as be bought it together," James tried to interject.

"My kitchen," Lily growled.

"Fine, yes, your kitchen," James conceded quickly, throwing his wife a winning smile. "And what a lovely kitchen it is," he added.

"You're lucky I love you," Lily sighed, rolling her eyes again as she tugged him forward, kissing him again.

"Don't I know it," James whispered to himself once their lips parted. "Don't I know it."


	4. Chapter 4

**Under the Mistletoe**

 _ **A/N: This fic was written for the Diagon Alley II Secret Santa Gift Exchange 2016, for MarvelGeek42 by whitetiger91**_ _ **.**_

 _ **Unfortunately, this fic was a last minute replacement as the original Secret Santa wasn't able to write, so I haven't had as much time as I would have liked to have this beta'd or make it as special as the occasion it is for. Nevertheless, I hope you like it, and if it gives anyone even a little bit of enjoyment over these holidays, then I'll be happy :)**_

 _ **Word count: 2134 words**_

* * *

Not for the first time that evening, Colin sighed. He should have been at home, making gingerbread with his brother and helping his father prepare the Christmas dinner. He should have been at home wrapping gifts that arrived last-minute in the post, not standing in the Great Hall by himself at a Christmas party.

"What's wrong, mate?" a voice asked.

Taking a deep breath, Colin tore his eyes away from the brunette dancing around the room and focused them on the boy standing next to him. Fabian was holding a goblet of pumpkin juice, but by the way he swirled it around, he was probably pretending it was Firewhiskey or something again. Fabian often had a tendency to pretend he was older than he really was, more or less in the hope of gaining a girlfriend. His cheeks were flushed, highlighted by the grin on his face. Well, at least _he_ was having a good time.

"Nothing," Colin said.

He found his eyes, once again, wandering back to the girl. She had stopped dancing and was now laughing with a few of the other witches standing around her. The red dress robes she wore glittered under the fairy-lights strung around the hall, making her look all the more enchanting.

"Ohhh, still fancying Mildred, eh?" Fabian asked, nudging him in the ribs.

Colin slapped Fabian's hand away and took a step back. Fabian's drink sloshed over the rim of his goblet, leaving large, orange splotches all over the polished marble floor. If his friend wasn't careful, he'd soon attract the unwanted attention of Filch, who hadn't been happy in the first place that the left-over students were having a party.

Oblivious to it all, Fabian nudged him again. "Looks like Mildred's standing under the mistletoe. Go on, now's your chance, big boy."

Colin swung his head back to Mildred who, sure enough, was standing directly under one of the sprigs of mistletoe dangling from the ceiling. She mustn't have seen it—or simply didn't care—for she continued to laugh with her friends. His stomach twisted at the thought and his face dropped.

"Go on, what are you waiting for?" Fabian said, raising his voice.

"I—no, I don't think so."

"Aww, wuss!" Fabian said.

Half of Fabian's drink was now on the floor. A group of Hufflepuff girls walked past, causing Fabian to act as drunkenly as possible.

Colin rolled his eyes and walked a few metres away, where he couldn't possibly be associated with such a fool. Honestly, did Fabian not know he looked ridiculous? That being "drunk" wasn't actually that cool?

His eyes wandered back to Mildred, still under the mistletoe. Clutching his stomach, which now felt like someone was stabbing it, he shook his head. No, perhaps Fabian was the one who knew what girls liked. Perhaps Colin was wrong about everything, like he had been the previous day. He was wrong to have ever liked Mildred, and he was wrong to have stayed behind for Christmas.

* * *

 _ **32 hours before…**_

 _This was it; this was his big chance._

 _Colin's legs bounced up and down, his feet tapping the carpet, as he waited for the Gryffindor common room to empty. Most of the students stood or sat around the cosy room in small groups, hugging each other goodbye and swapping presents. Trunks spilling over with robes and holiday homework were piled by the door, owls shrieking from their cages. Soon, many of them would be off on the Hogwarts Express, headed home for Christmas._

 _Mildred, however, wouldn't be._

 _Colin smiled over at the pretty brunette sitting by the fire. Dangling from the rafters above her was a sprig of mistletoe, hung by one of the older years in the hopes of getting a snog. He had been friends with her for three years now but had only just realised that perhaps they could be more._

 _Yesterday, in the last class before break, she had giggled when he had leant her his notes, blushing furiously as their hands brushed each other. From what Fabian had told him, it was most definitely a sign that she liked him._

 _Now, Colin just had to wait until her friends left and he could surprise her._

" _Are you sure you don't want to come home, Colin?" Dennis asked, having finally managed to drag his trunk to the pile._

 _Colin shook his head, tearing his gaze away from Mildred._

" _I'm going to miss you both, but you and Dad will have a good old time together. Plus, I'll see him before he knows it," he said with a smile._

 _Dennis returned the smile, although it didn't quite reach his eyes. Colin knew Christmas wouldn't be the same without the three of them together—it had been hard enough adjusting to the holidays when their mother had passed away—and felt a little guilty that he wasn't going to be there. He would miss his father's attempts to make mince pies, as well as decorating the tree that would inevitably fall over when their cat tried to climb it. Still, he didn't want to miss the Christmas party the students staying behind had planned, or the chance to finally ask Mildred out._

 _Fidgeting in his seat, Colin felt around for the presents he had bought downstairs with him. Holding out the two, neatly wrapped parcels, he winked at Dennis. "You can open yours tomorrow night if you'd like," he said._

 _Dennis' smiled widened and he accepted the presents. "Thanks!"_

 _Colin leant forward and gave him a hug before shooing him off. "Well, it looks like everyone else is heading off to the coaches. You'd better get going. Merry Christmas!"_

" _Happy Christmas, Colin!" Dennis replied, running off to join the horde of students pouring through the portrait hole._

 _As soon as he was gone, Colin flicked his gaze back to Mildred. Her friends were still in the room, but they had moved off to some of the now vacated armchairs. She had just taken out a book, and if there was ever a time to act, it would be now before she became too-far invested in it._

 _Gulping, Colin slowly untangled his legs and stood up. His legs were shaking, and as he made his way over to Mildred, he found he had to wipe his palms on his trousers a few times._

" _H-hi, Millie," he said when he reached her._

 _Mildred's lips were moving as she read her book. It was a few moments before she paused and looked up, a small smile gracing her rosy lips. "Oh, hi Colin."_

 _It was now or never. Colin's heart raced, his hands growing sweatier. Before he lost his nerve, he leant forward and crushed his lips against hers, praying that the kissing advice Fabian had given him was correct. Her lips seemed to move with his and her hands gripped his shoulders, so he supposed he was doing alright._

" _Ew! Ugh, Colin, what are you doing?" Mildred shrieked, pushing him back._

 _Colin broke this kiss, pulling back enough so he could stare into Mildred's face. She was wiping her sleeve across her mouth and her eyes were narrowed._

 _What was wrong? Had he not kissed her alright after all? Maybe he should have gone for a quick peck on the lips instead?_

 _Pointing to the mistletoe above her head, Colin said, "The mistletoe…"_

 _Mildred looked up, her cheeks turning red. Then, looking back to him, she stood up. "Ew."_

 _Colin took a step back as she pushed past him, marching over to her friends. He watched her talking to them, gesturing wildly with her hands to him and her lips. The girls broke into a fit of giggles, and when Mildred glanced at him again, he could see her lips were twisted into a smirk._

 _He had never known until then what it felt to have his heart broken. He hadn't known that it really was as bad as people said, if not worse. That it would feel like someone was punching him in the chest over and over again, or that his eyes would immediately well up with hot, salty tears. That he would want to run up to his dormitory and pack his belongings and try to catch the Hogwarts Express home, even when he knew it would have already departed._

* * *

Colin took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to rid memories of his _faux pas_. He had been stupid to believe that Mildred would actually like him back, or that kissing her was a good Christmas gift. Fabian had assured him it would be; his friend just hadn't realised that Colin was a terrible kisser.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Opening his eyes, Colin looked around the Great Hall. People had started to pair off together when the beginning notes of a Celestina Warbeck's _Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love_ echoed around the room. Mildred had pranced over to Michael Corner, eyes dancing with joy. It was another stab to the chest, reminding Colin that he would not be joining in such activities.

He definitely should have gone home. Maybe if he had, he would have been able to avoid this embarrassment.

"I don't think they're having as great a time as they're making out to," a soft voice said.

Colin cringed, sure that it was Fabian again, his drunk act turning into the need for him to mimic voices. When he turned to tell him to go away, he was surprised to see Luna Lovegood standing there, blue eyes staring out into the crowd.

"Oh, hi Luna," he said. "Ah yes, well, um, I don't mind. They can dance away if they'd like."

"So you're not upset that you're not out there with them?"

"Uh, no. No, of course not," Colin said.

Luna was now watching him closely, eyebrows raised. "Oh, alright."

Colin shifted on the spot, not liking the way she was looking at him. Had she heard what had happened? Of course she had. Colin knew that Luna was a bit aloof sometimes, but she wasn't so oblivious to the gossip circulating the school. Mildred or one of her friends had surely spread the word about the kiss by now, probably to warn the other fourth-year girls that the disgusting Colin Creevey was on a kissing rampage.

No, that was being ungenerous of Mildred, even if she had rejected him.

Luna was still watching him, her head tilted. "Is it because you can't dance? I saw you practicing last year for the Yule Ball, even if no one really wanted third years to attend, but you were quite good."

Colin's cheeks grew hot and he looked down at his feet. He remembered helping Neville Longbottom practice for the ball last year, using all his father had taught him about ballroom dancing. It had actually been quite fun, and when he had introduced him to Ginny Weasley and Neville had asked her to escort him to it, it had been all the more wonderful. Embarrassing that someone else knew about the lessons, but still wonderful.

"Erm, thanks," he said.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Luna shrug. The song had changed to another slow-paced number and as the minutes passed on, Luna started to hum along with it.

"Well, I suppose I should head off to bed now," Colin said, still staring at his feet.

Luna continued to hum, but when Colin took a step forward, she stopped. Colin felt a tug on his arm, but before he knew what was happening, she had pushed herself onto her toes and pecked a kiss on his cheek.

Reaching his hand to the spot, he turned to her. "Why-why'd you do that?" he stammered.

"We're standing under the mistletoe," Luna said, pointing above them.

Twisting his neck back, Colin looked up to see that she was right. Above them was a sprig of mistletoe. The white berries on it seemed to increase in number as he looked at them, a bright red ribbon tying the leaves together.

"But that wasn't there before," he said, rubbing his eyes. He had purposely made sure to avoid standing near any mistletoe all day. How had he not noticed some above him until now?

Turning back to Luna, he found his lips twitching. She was focused back on the dance floor, her hands behind her back, once more humming to the song playing.

"Well, I'm going to dance. You can join me if you'd like," she said. Not waiting for a reply, she skipped out into the centre of the Great Hall, putting something into the pocket of her dress robes.

Colin raised his hand to his cheek again, allowing the smile to break out. It no longer felt like someone was stabbing him, the pain somehow going away as he watched Luna twirl around, her silver-blonde hair flowing down her back.

Perhaps he was right; staying at Hogwarts over Christmas was a good idea, after all.


End file.
